


when you go away (i still see you)

by blueberrywizard



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: (I guess it's angst since my angst is more like h/c than actual angst), Angst, Charles-centric, Honestly Charles What Are You Thinking, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Neglect, M/M, Not Beta Read, Post Beach Divorce, Post X-Men: First Class, Pre-X-Men: Days of Future Past
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-10-17 19:54:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20626649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueberrywizard/pseuds/blueberrywizard
Summary: "And when you go away, I still see youThe sunlight on your face in my rear-view"or a couple of looks at Charles after beach divorce and how he's obviously not coping, because it's Charles we're talking about.





	when you go away (i still see you)

**Author's Note:**

> Title and quote are borrowed from "Sunsetz" by Cigarettes After Sex
> 
> I don't even know what I was trying to do here. I had free evening and this happened. I just hope I didn't make any big mistakes (English is not my first language). 
> 
> Anyway, Charles, what have you done to yourself.

The night was quiet and cold. Also, like in all autumn nights, there was something nostalgic about it, the stillness in the air just like when someone waits a while before playing their favourite song out loud for someone special. But there was no music. And there wasn’t anything special about this night, either. 

Just another Wednesday. Just another day filled with pain and the void which hurted him as much as when the void was full of voices and cries and screaming. It’s funny, _ before _ he never consider it as the _ void _ because it was endless stream of information, but after it ended, he realised that his mind was pure oxymoron: empty and full at the same time. 

Now everything was empty. His house, his mind and his heart too. 

It felt like _ the beginning _again. When his mother’s absent stares didn’t last long on anything, especially him, when his stepfather was raising his hand, ready to strike him down, when his stepbrother hit him where it hurt the most. The only difference between now and then is that now he is the one causing the pain. And he is the one that has to bear it. 

He was always scared of being alone. Scared of being physically alone, but also with nothing aside of his thoughts in his head. It was terrifying, because it felt like power, because it felt like vulnerability. 

It felt like defeat.

* * *

Nights were longer now than they were _ before. Before _ he had _ him _ to distract, _ his _ helpful hand (and helpful mind) to get him through the worst of them. Now, with nothing but silence, nothing but another sharp liquid in his tumbler, nights were like never ending circle of regrets, guilt and breathlessness. 

He lost a lot of them too. He was waking up in parts of the manor he wasn’t nearby for the last twenty years, at least, with hangover and stale taste in his mouth, dozing off in the chair for hours without eating anything, floating without any movement, because moving was _ cheating _ and moving was _ remembering. _

He was constantly torn between _ before _ and _ after, _and he couldn’t see any way out. He wasn’t who he was then and he doesn’t know who he is now. He knew now that his hope was naive and his love was never enough for anybody. He knew now that sometimes even giving too much is still too little. 

He knew now that he could never make it work: he simply was too little for any cause.

There’s only so much one can sacrifice for love, after all.

* * *

He tried to stay away from his study, but he found himself sleeping then often than anywhere else. He didn’t know why. Maybe it’s because they had sex there for the last time. Or maybe because he couldn’t find energy to go anywhere else. 

He was a sentimental fool, he knew it. And now there was nothing he could do to change that. He was trapped without any chance of getting out. 

But sometimes…

Sometimes sharp movement was pulling him out of his mind into the reality. And there it was: line of his lips was as mysterious as always, but he saw this special kind of smile reserved only for him. Soft fabrics and soft smiles. It was warm and it was happy. Or at least calm (he still didn’t know if he will be able to be happy again for he lost so much, even himself). But suddenly he was wrapped in heavy blanket and he felt at peace.

“Here you go, _ liebling. _ You were cold again.”

“Thank you, darling. I don’t know what would I do without you.”

“It’s good that we don’t have to see that, right?”

“Yes.” He murmured. “You’re going to stay with me, aren’t you?”

“_ Ja, liebling. _I am.”

He could go to sleep now. Feeling safer than he ever did. 

  
  
  
  


(Sometimes Hank stood in silence for a while, hidden in shadows, just watching him.

Professor was talking to himself again.)


End file.
